


Donations in red

by elizaria



Series: Captain Harkness and the vampires [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-20
Updated: 2009-05-20
Packaged: 2019-06-21 05:20:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15550515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaria/pseuds/elizaria
Summary: [originally posted 2009-05-20]Fandom: Crossover Angel post-series/TorchwoodPairing: Spike/Angel, and Jack Harkness as a visiting characterRating: R-ish?Words: 3124Notes: unbetaed crack. Leave logical thought at home. There might be more?





	Donations in red

Spike was just going looking for blood, that was all he had planned to do today. And maybe see if he could get Angel out of his funk. That old Sire of his was worse than a badger with a toothache when he was wounded and bedridden. Complanin' and whinin' and trying too hard too soon and making things bleed again. It didn't exactly help that there was a complete lack of blood in the area. The hospitals were mostly gone, what was left of them wasn't something Spike could raid for blood. His soul would scream at him for even thinking it, the few humans still left in L.A. were mostly wounded ones. Th eothers had taken their fancy cars and hightailed it out of here. No one wanted to stay around for the tentacles.  
  
But instead he got a gun shoved in his face and a guy callin him John.  
  
"No, sorry. Seems you got the wrong bloke." Spike was almost wishing he'd try something so he'd have an excuse to bite him. What? He was hungry. But no go, the guy tilted the gun back and peered at him, as if a sign would pop up and explain everything. "Yeah, even the wrong species."  
  
"Huh." That was not the response Spike had expected. The long coat took a step closer and circled him, Spike let him have his fill and lit a cigarette while waiting to see what was next. This could be interesting.  
  
"You're a vampire aren't you?" But before Spike had stopped coughing smoke, long coat continued, "Eerily resemblance to Captain John Hart though, but you don't smell right."  
  
Spike could smell the blood under his skin, warm breath against his neck and a spicy scent he couldn't name and he pulled back so hard he almost heard somthing crack in his neck. "Hey! You don't just walk up and sniff a vampire!"  
  
"No worries." There was a big grin on long coat's face. A smile that just lit his face up and Spike was sure he was on something. No body was that happy, without some chemical aids.  
  
"'no worries? Didn't you just call me a vampire? Aren't you afraid I'm gonna eat you, or are you one of those people that can't handle their town dying around them? I've seen them, throwing themselves off a bridge with a puppysad look on their face. Like the fun's been drained out of them. S'either that or you're stoned buddy boy."  
  
Long coat had stuffed his guns somewhere and was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and that stupid smile on his face. "Heh. I kinda do mind dying, it just don't really matter. See, I just pop back up again. Like a cork under water."  
  
His voice was smooth like butter and cream, high tea and Sunday mornings, and before Spike realised he was sniffing happily at the man's neck. "You smell wonderful mate." Spike almost lunges backwards with the surprise of it, he hasn't lost his marbles like that since ha was a baby vamp. "Oi! You shouldn't let me do that."  
  
"Now why not. I already told you I don't die easily." Was it possible for the stranger to look even more smug? Spike wasn't sure but he looked it and it gave Spike very mixed feelings. Like he wanted to rip that smile off of his face the same time he wanted to taste it, kiss it open and suck on his tongue. Spike shivered, what the hell was wrong with him? It was like the man was vamp-nip, Spike couldn't stop wanting to breathe deeply and pull in long coat's scent. "You know, that means shit to me. 'Don't die easily'," Spike sneered. "Ever think that I might not wanna kill you?"  
  
"That's gotta be first for a vampire." Now Spike was sure long coat looked smugger than a smug thing in smugville.  
  
"Just second."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind. Now go away. I'm busy." Spike forces himself to walk fast-paced and not stopping to look. Blood, that was what he needed to get. And not human. Not at all. Not ever.  
  
"Hey, wait up."   
  
So, Spike didn't get very far. But he was still not stopping. "Not feeling like it, mate." He could hear long coat breathing behind him, his quick steps and heart pumping blood with a rythm Spike wanted to dance to.  
  
"Wait. I didn't catch your name."  
  
"You didn't ask." Spike was already lighting another cigarette, he didn't even remmeber what happened to the other one he'd just lit a few moments ago. Maybe the smoke would drown the scent, maybe he would go away in a apuff of smoke. Maybe Spike was king Tut.  
  
A warm hand on his arm, Spike could feel the heat even through his leather coat, "I'm captain Jack Harkness. And you are?"  
  
He still wasn't turning around. He wasn't. Okay then, fine. But he was still smoking his cigarette. "Spike. Now what of it?"  
  
"You're hungry aren't you?" Now there was a headtilt and less of a smug grin on long coat, Jack's, face. Jack. The name fit him. Still didn't make him sound any more sane though. "You got a deathwish that bad?" Jack made his teeth itch, and it was starting to freak Spike the fuck out. If his control was this bad, he was dangerous. He turned with an angry snarl and pulled his arm from under Jack's fist. But instead he put himself right in front of Spike, like a living breathing stopsign. Spike didn't usually want to maul stopsigns but right now his fingers were already twitching to do some damage.  
  
"No, no, wait. Listen. I see you got some problems around here."  
  
That didn't even deserve a reply, Spike just stared at him till Jack coughed a smile and went on. "I work for Torchwood, it's a British organisation and I've been sent here to take care of one of your problems. Problem is the rest of the team is back in good ol' Britain to handle the current chaos on the homefield. So I could use a little help and I thought we could exchange favors."  
  
Now we're talking. "Help? Favours? Walk with me, I have places to be." Jack easily kept up the pace with Spike as the ventured further into the broken buildings and littered streets.  
  
  


-|-|-|-|-|-

  
  
The sky was already turning lighter shades of morning hues when the iron door to the old strong-room banged open. "Angel, how are you on this fine day?" Spike ambled into the room in his usual style, looking like he owned it. It always annoyed someone.  
  
"Same as when you lef you little shit. Did you find any?" Angel was halfway leaning up in bed, whiter than his usual pasty pale face and the gashes on his cheek almost looked black. Unhealed as they were.  
  
"Better than that, I brought it home." Master. Spike curled his tongue around the word, no sense in roughing Angel's feathers now when he was too weak to even argue properly. Boring. Not that he ever let the worrying thoughts out to even breathe, just shut them down as soon as they popped their ugly faces.  
  
"It?" Angel looked confused, the way he normally looked.  
  
"He means me." Of course. Captain Jack Harkness couldn't wait another second to show his ugly mug. Spike knew Angel's reaction wouldn't be exactly  _pleased as punch_ , and he'd wanted to try and explain it before he got his rage on. Not that it was more than makeshift these days. Not enough blood, or energy, in his body to have a proper Angelus fit.  
  
But as the human follows his words into the room Spike can see how Angel's wrenched body flinches hard, and he curses quietly.  
  
"Spike. What . the . hell?"  
  
"Now you just wait a minute and don't go drawing conclusions in that egghead of yours. To start with - he offered. Two, the bloke says he can't be killed. And three, most importantly, he's happy to shift some blood in order to have a helping hand with the chthuludemon." Spike threw himself onto the only furniture in the room, a broken down old comfy chair, and lit another cigarette. He couldn't really look Angel in the eye because human blood was something none of them had tasted in a very long time, and it gave him shivers just thinking about it. So he just cupped his hands around the lighter and tried not to show his hands shaking.  
  
"It's not fucking Cthulu Spike."  
  
Angel's arms were trembling where he held himself up on the bed, and he knew the rage would soon put him out like a light. Angel didn't have energy reserves yet and his body used it up faster than a car running on empty. The cursing was enough of a big flaring signal that Angel was very, very brassed off.  
  
But before Spike had a chance to try and cool Angel's temperature, Jack Harkness butted in. "It's an alien. And yes, he's right. You can't kill me. Or well, I don't stay very dead. So, here I was thinking we should double the fun. If you could feed yourself better then you could help me wrangle the torishmahin back to the rift, and then you'll have the town back. Without me in it."  
  
"He'd definitely like that."  
  
"Spike." It's a wonder how much displeasure Angel can put in one word like that. Darla was even better (worse) at it. Maybe she taught her Prince Charming how to stick your nose up to people in a fancy style.   
  
Angel was close to crashing, and he shifted his weight on to one side with a grimace Spike saw through just as easily as the scent of blood hiding underneath the sheets. The old bugger had probably opened up the stomach wound. Again. Angel turned his hardened eyes onto Harkness and stared him down. "And you are?" The captain took it without a flinch, and with an added bow. "Captain Jack Harkness at your service."  
  
"I just bet you are," Spike mumbled. Harkness was playing it up to Angel like he was someone important, like he knew Angel held the keys to this kingdom and he was asking for an audience. It was pissing Spike off. He threw the burnt out cigarette on the floor, trying to hit the good ol captain's shoes but he shifted his feet as if the man had a fifth sense.   
  
"Spike." He looked up with a guilty face. How come Angel made him feel like a below average pupil under his tutor's calculating eyes... But he's thoughts were interrupted by Angel calling for his attention. Again. Spike shook his head like a wet dog and glared at Angel. "This one could be just as crazy as all the other people wandering the streets. How come you decided to believe this one?"  
  
"Of course, not like you couldn't just take my word for it. He's got the shiny silly gadgets, the radio in his ear and badge to show off. Also, the bloke shot his brains out just to shut me up."  
  
Now that shut Angel's gob.  
  
"You... really?"  
  
"Easiest way to fix his questions. Now, shall we get on with the biting? Unless you want another demonstration."  
  
Angel fixed him with a hard look, "how come you're so eager to die?"  
  
"I wouldn't call it eager. It's just that after two thousand deaths, take or leave a few, a guy tends to wanna liven it up a little. Try on the pleasurable ways to die." The smile dimmed a few watts. "There is pleasure right?"  
  
"Loads of it." Spike leers at him, he can already taste the blood rolling down his throat, the scent in his nostrils and the feel of his teeth sinking into something warm and beating.  
  
"Spike." There goes that voice again. Like bloody reins pulling him when all he wants to do is run, run like the wind. "Shut up for a sec Angel, you need blood. I got you blood. And just because you have principles and whatnot it's better to lie here and suffer them is it? Have a bite, s'not like you have to drain the bloke."  
  
Angel goes quiet and Spike forces through, to bully on when there's an opening and break through the man's stubborness. "C'mere then Captain Jack so Angel can have a first taste of you. Maybe once there's some bloodflow to that forhead of his he won't seem so stupid." He grabs the long woolen coat and pulls it off of him. There are a paid of nice wide shoulders hiding underneath that, and the scent again - hitting Spike in the face like a sledgehammer. He curls his body to stop the desire to attack, and instead starts unbuttoning the shirt sleeve so he can pull it up. Light blue shirt to match the darker blue veins Spike can see pulsing underneath silken skin, thin like a membrane and showing it's gold underneath. Spike feels like a junkie tasting for a dirty fix.   
  
So he's a little rough when he pulls Jack closer to the bed. What of it?  
  
Angel's too weak to dance, so without any prettyfying he goes directly for the kill. Large hands circling the tender wristbone, his fangs dropping down before he's even closed in and Spike can almost taste the need in which Angel sucks down the first mouth of blood. Angel pulls with deep gulps, messy and wet and Jack makes the most delicious sounds, his other hand curling helplessly against the wall he uses to keep himself on his feet.  
  
It feels like ages, but by the color and breath of Harkness it has hardly been long at all, when Angel pulls away with a wet smacking of lips. "That's enough. You're not human."  
  
"I am. Just seen from the future of what they'll become. Oh, except that dying issue. You could taste that?" The shaky shivering sigh of the man slumped against the wall has Spike closing in on him faster than proper like, so he steps back to not start something he wouldn't be able to stop. The air in the small room is tense and fed with the scent of fresh blood.  
  
"Spike, get him away for me will you."   
  
Spike was about to protest but something in Angel's voice makes him hop to. "Angel? -- Right, come over here then a while Captan Jack. Go up there and follow what's left of the block then turn right - they're still selling food there. I suggest you buy some if you still want to come back here again. Your body's gonna need some nourishment."  
  
"Right, okay. See you later then boys!" Harkness' still pulling down his sleeve over a bite almost already healed when he just about bounces up the stairs. Shouldn't the man be a little dimmed in that energy about now? It's like a crackling cloud about him, reeling things in around him. No wonder he talks about attraction and easy in the same sentence.  
  
Once he's out of the room some of the tension bleeds out of the air, but Spike's still not sure what Angel's on about. They could have fed a lot more without doing any damage. "You okay, Angel?"  
  
"Couldn't you just leave me alone? Go with Harkness or something."  
  
"No. I can't. Not untill you tell--" Spike sniffs the air, the closer he comes to the bed it's like an old friend coming to knock on his door. "Ahh, so that's what it's about. Since when are you shy?" He leers at the curled form on the bed.  
  
"Spike!" Good ol embarrased outrage. He hadn't heard that in a while.  
  
"Come on, it's not like it's the first time in history that you've wanked off before me. Besides, now you have blood to blame it on and not my pert ass."  
  
"Angel groans, and looks away. Maybe he's wishing they had proper sheets so he could hide his face amongst pillows they don't have. "Could you just not do this."  
  
Spike completely ignores him and crawls on top of the bed. "I can smell him on you, did he taste as good as he smells? How much did you take? It looked like you barely had a mouthful or two and you're hard as a rock." Spike's hands finds him easily. It's like reading a map he could redraw with his eyes closed, and he can feel the big man shake underneath his hands. Need this bad is like poison in the system, like E for your sensitized system but no release valve.  
  
"Spike." The whisper is rough, between bitten lips and rough, like Angelus when he's just had his fill.  
  
"I can make it good for you, you know I can." He pulls the tattered fabrics aside so he can see what the small amount of blood has already healed, flushed skin and red angry scars. But the wounds are closed, no longer bleeding between Spike's fingers trying to hold Angel together by will and desperation. He wraps his hands around Angel's proud length, slowly squeezing him to feel the blood rush underneath the thin skin.  
  
But Angel's big fist wraps around his. "Harder, get it done." he's not even looking at Spike.  
  
"What, so I can't enjoy touching you? I'm gonna have this Angel, and you shut your complainin' yap."  
  
Angel stares at him, his eyes muddied waters Spike can't read, but he lets his hand fall and clutches the sheet with it instead. So Spike decides to take that as permission and leans down to taste skin he hasn't had in his mouth since he was mostly still William. It rushes across his tongue like memories bittersweet and a want deeper than Spike ever lets himself imagine. He closes his ears to Angel's mumbling cursing sounds and tastes his fill, licks him like a sugarcane till his lips are wet and he can easily slide down to bury his nose in coarse curls. It's sopping wet because Spike can't stop drooling, and Angel's dribbling precome like it's been ages for him too. Once Angel comes he tries to pull out from under Spike and curl up into a ball, after a brief struggle Spike lets him. "You find shame in anything these days don't you."  
  
"Just.. get out, leave me be." Angel's voice whispers out, broken sounds like glass that Spike has no problem stepping on. Walking all over and stomping old grudges flat and useless. "No, this time I'm not letting you out of my sight you asshole."


End file.
